


Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

by JillianJane



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 03:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17015076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JillianJane/pseuds/JillianJane
Summary: Harry loves Christmas, and this year there is someone else for whom he wants to find the perfect gift. But it's this gift which is proving the most difficult. What do you buy the England manager?





	Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Harry loves Christmas. As a child it had seemed like such a magical time of year. Nothing had compared to the excitement of Christmas Eve or the joy of the following day. Now, Harry loves to buy presents, and this year there is someone else for whom he wants to find the perfect gift. But it's this gift which is proving the most difficult. What do you buy the England manager?

Harry was pondering this as he was getting changed after training. He doesn’t want to choose something generic; he wants to find something special, something meaningful.

“Hey, Harry? You fancy coming for a bite to eat? We’re going to try that tapas place Dele mentioned yesterday.” Eric appears in his line of sight, and Harry shakes himself out of his Gareth-related thoughts. He has a lot of those.

“Uh, maybe another time? I’ve got some shopping to do.”

“Christmas shopping?”

“Yeah. You know how it is, looking for the perfect presents and all.”

“Just buy gift cards, or give them cash,” Dele suggests, and Harry rolls his eyes. “What?” Dele goes on, “Lots of people return or chuck out their gifts anyway, unless you’re buying for your kids, in which case, toys galore.”

“Thanks for the sage advice,” Harry remarks, slipping into his coat, “And thanks for the invite anyway. You guys enjoy yourselves, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay. Good luck with your shopping,” Eric says.

“Buy some gift cards just in case,” Dele puts in.

 

On his way to his car, Harry’s phone alerts him to a text message. He pulls it from his pocket and sees it’s a message from Gareth. His heart takes off at a gallop. 

_Are you busy?_

Gareth is in town and wants to see him. Harry is definitely _not_ busy.

_No. Just finished training. Where are you?_

_The Savoy. Feel like joining me?_

Harry raises his eyebrows. Not Gareth’s usual port of call in London.

_You have to ask? I’m on my way. x_

Finding the ideal present for Gareth can wait just a little while longer. Harry’s not going to turn down the chance to spend an afternoon with him. The time they had together was always precious. An afternoon wrapped up in Gareth in a luxury hotel will be bliss, but it does make Harry sad to think their relationship exists mostly in hotel rooms. There is nowhere else they can be together. 

He pauses by his car for a few moments, breathing in the cold air. Then he gets in and drives away.

 

It’s a drive that takes him twice as long because it’s London. Harry loves his home city but it frustrates him at times like this. It’s so bloody big and busy. The Savoy is busy as well. Gareth had texted him his suite number, and Harry doesn’t bother with the lift, taking the stairs keenly. When he reaches Gareth’s suite he takes a calming breath to try to slow his heart, a futile attempt because his heart knows it is seconds away from what it wants. 

Harry knocks. The door opens a moment later, Gareth mostly obscured behind it. Harry walks in and no sooner has the door clicked shut behind him does he find himself pressed up against it.

“Hello,” Gareth murmurs, and Harry doesn’t have time to reply before warm lips close over his. He melts into their kiss with a happy sigh, running his hands over Gareth’s shoulders to the nape of his neck, letting his fingers slide through the hair there. 

“Hi,” he breathes when they eventually part, though they stay close enough that their foreheads touch. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Have you?” It’s not really a question but Harry answers anyway.

“I have. There aren’t enough international breaks.” 

Gareth chuckles, “I bet not many people say that. Usually they say there are too many to start with.”

“What do they know? March is too far away.” 

“I’ll have to make more trips to London over the winter, then.” 

“Yes please,” Harry whispers before he captures Gareth’s lips with his own, delighting in the soft sounds he pulls from him. He feels Gareth’s hands run down his back and it makes Harry arch into him. He knows he’s like a cat when it comes to his back, and Gareth knows it, too. 

“Have you missed me?” Harry asks, nuzzling Gareth’s neck.

“What do you think?”

 

Harry loves watching Gareth come apart. It makes him heady knowing he can do this to his manager. Right now he has Gareth beneath him, unashamedly pleading for release. Harry has teased him with it a couple of times, and thinks he should probably follow through now. But one thing, first.

“Say it,” he whispers. This isn’t really about being the one in control. Harry just needs to hear it.

“I love you,” Gareth breathes, “I love you, Harry.”

Harry kisses him for that, strokes his cheek, then snaps his hips forward again. Gareth responds with a rather sinful moan and pushes back, meeting each of Harry’s thrusts hard. Harry doesn’t know how he can feel so desperate and so at peace at the same time. It’s always like this with Gareth. Perhaps it’s because they don’t get much time together but when they do, it’s perfect. 

Having being on the edge twice before it’s not long until Gareth falls, back arching as he chokes out a strangled cry. Harry has a few moments to admire him before he follows him over the edge, and he can’t stop the cry that rips from his throat as a sharp pleasure shudders through him. He’s also helpless to prevent the sob that forces its way from his chest. 

He eases back, trembling, and a moment later finds himself brought down into Gareth’s arms. Harry closes his eyes, can feel them pricking hotly. 

“I’m so in love with you,” he says, his voice heavy with emotion. 

A kiss is pressed to his hair and gentle hands stoke his back, soothing him. 

“I know, sweet one,” Gareth murmurs, “I feel the same way.”

Harry can’t really get any closer to Gareth than he already is but he tries anyway and is comforted when Gareth wraps him in a tight embrace. He doesn’t want to get up and leave, wishes so much that he could stay the night. It feels like every time he goes, he leaves a bit more of his heart behind with Gareth.

“There’s always St. George’s Park,” Gareth says quietly, “if we’re brave enough.”

Gareth, as he invariably does, has picked up on Harry’s thoughts. England’s training base has a hotel on site but so far they have not been brave enough to take advantage of that, not even with them always having rooms to themselves. Maybe in March, Harry thinks. But that’s over three months away.

“And until then?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” 

They are quiet for a while. Harry tries to think of a way they can be together for more than a few hours at a time. It’s not possible during the football season, their respective schedules making it hard enough just to meet in a hotel. He wonders if maybe in the summer…

“Are you sure I didn’t take you away from something this afternoon?” Gareth asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“You didn’t.”

“It’s just that I don’t want you to feel like you can’t say no, Harry. Even if I call at short notice like today, you never say no. You always come.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, simply.

“Harry,” Gareth whispers, and it sounds almost broken. Harry doesn’t want Gareth to sound like that, ever. He reaches up and presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I mean it. It’s not that I feel I can’t say no, it’s that I don’t want to. I want to be with you whenever I can.” He strokes Gareth’s cheek with the back of his index finger. “If you want to know the honest truth, before you texted I was about to go shopping to look for a Christmas present for you.”

This seems to shake Gareth from the sombre mood he’d fallen into.

“Harry, that’s not necessary. You don’t need to buy me anything. Seeing you on Christmas Eve, that’s what matters to me.”

“I know. But I’m not in the habit of not buying gifts for someone I love.” Harry smiles, takes one of Gareth’s hands in his own. “It’s proving a bit of a challenge, though. I don’t want to get you just anything. I want it to mean something.”

“It will, coming from you. Promise me you won’t fret over this.”

“I won’t fret. I’m just…giving it a lot of thought.”

“That’s so like you,” Gareth gives him a soft smile, and Harry returns it.

“You know, you’re so keen for us to literally spend the night together, but have you considered that we might not be good bed mates?” Gareth muses.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, an elbow in the chest or a kick to the shin. Do you hog the bed or the sheets?”

Harry laughs, “No, and no. I’m a pretty restful sleeper. I think it’s all the fresh air and exercise. Only if I’ve played like crap or Spurs have, do I maybe sleep a bit restlessly. What about you?”

“I’m…likely to cuddle.”

“Yeah?” Harry smiles, “good.” He pauses a moment. “Do you think we have time for another round before I go?” 

Gareth laughs. “I think you have a lot of faith in my recovery rate.”

“With good reason. It’s just, you know, I’m going to need this to tide me over until Christmas Eve.”

“Is that so? Well, I can’t disappoint my captain. Let’s see, shall we?”

 

*

 

Spurs qualify for the Champions League knockout stages and Harry is elated. He receives a text of congratulations from Gareth, and he calls him.

“Hello you,” Gareth says when he picks up.

“Hey yourself. Is it all right to talk?”

“Of course. I’m so happy for you, Harry. You played so well. I’d love to see Spurs win it.”

“Is the England manager supposed to say things like that?” Harry teases, though he is secretly happy that Gareth wants his team to win.

“I’m sure I’m not supposed to be sleeping with my star striker and captain but I am anyway.”

“You rebel.”

Gareth laughs.

“I’m counting the days until the 24th,” Harry says.

“I’ve bought your present,” Gareth replies.

“Really? Can I have a hint?”

“Well, I’ve been a bit presumptuous. I’ve assumed this date on your calendar will be free.”

Harry is intrigued and excited. A date for what? He doesn’t ask because he does love surprises, but it gives him an idea for Gareth’s gift.

“Harry?”

“I’m here. I can’t wait.”

“Until Christmas Eve, then?”

“Yeah. I love you.”

“I love you, too, blondie.”

As he ends the call, Harry smiles.

 

*

 

Harry ends up fretting. He has chosen Gareth’s present but he worries that it’s not entirely a selfless choice. In fact, he knows it isn’t because it’s what he wants, too. So he ends up chastising himself for not being able to come up with something that is just for Gareth alone. Well, aside from the extremely expensive bottles of fine wine and whisky he bought as the sort of gifts he told himself he wasn’t going to get in the first place, but which he bought as a back up in case his main gift is turned down. Like Gareth, Harry has made a presumption with his choice.

Harry continues to worry, right up to Christmas Eve. Gareth is staying at the Savoy again and it’s a thoroughly dull, cold afternoon as Harry arrives. He’s on edge as he makes his way up to Gareth’s suite, taking a steadying breath before he knocks on the door because _what if he has gotten it all wrong?_

Gareth opens the door and smiles warmly, and Harry’s heart jumps to his throat. Gareth is dressed impeccably in navy, waistcoat included, and Harry puts his bags aside because he just has to kiss him _right now._

Gareth’s soft noise of surprise is cut off by Harry’s mouth, and Harry holds him tightly, nips at Gareth’s bottom lip, and Gareth duly opens for him. He tastes of whisky and a hint of dark chocolate, and Harry chases both. They’re each somewhat breathless when they part, and he is pleased to see that Gareth looks much less composed than he had when he’d opened the door.

“Hello to you, too,” Gareth rasps.

Harry grins, “Hey babe. Merry Christmas.”

Gareth looks at him with soft eyes, and Harry’s heart turns over. He doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him the way Gareth does. 

“Merry Christmas, Harry.” Gareth’s smile is as soft as his eyes. He takes Harry’s hand and starts to lead him to the spacious sofa, but Harry stops him. Gareth looks at him questioningly.

“Take me to bed?” Harry asks.

“As you wish.”

 

It’s payback for the other night, Harry thinks. Gareth seems to be enjoying teasing him, leaving him close, so close to release. He looks at Harry with a smile that’s really more of a smirk and Harry just wants to kiss it right off his face. He doesn’t, though, because Gareth runs his hands over Harry’s chest, down to his hips which he holds at just the right angle as he begins to move again, and Harry moans in approval.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re perfect?” Gareth murmurs.

_Jesus._ What does he say to _that?_

“No one except you,” he breathes, and it’s true. Of course he’s not perfect but Gareth is the only person who makes him feel anywhere close to it.

Gareth leans down to press the softest kisses to his neck. “I adore you. Always remember that,” he whispers, and _god,_ is he going to push Harry over the edge with just words? He can feel his chest beginning to heave with emotion. 

Gareth eases back to resume those thrusts at that exquisite angle, and soon Harry is falling, tumbling gratefully into the abyss with a desperate cry. It’s not long until Gareth follows him, and Harry holds him through his shuddering release, strokes his hair as he breathes out Harry’s name reverently against his neck.

They lie quietly in each other’s arms, happy.

 

After a while, they get up and shower before turning their attention to the mini food hamper Harry bought from Fortnum’s, setting out the treats on the dining table. 

Harry chuckles.

“What?” 

“You know those England Roommates videos the fans love?”

“Mm.”

“Imagine what we could say on one. I could tell the fans how easy it is to make the England manager beg and plead.”

“I see. I suppose I could tell them how easy it is to reduce Harry Edward Kane to a fit of giggles. By tickling his tummy.” This Gareth proceeds to do, slipping his hands beneath Harry’s shirt. Harry gasps and squirms in Gareth’s arms, laughing. He is definitely not giggling. 

“It’s not fair!” he claims breathlessly, “You take advantage of me being ticklish, and you’re not ticklish at all!”

“Aw.” Gareth lets up and presses a gentle kiss to Harry’s cheek. 

Smiling, Harry uses his phone to play some festive music and they sit down to eat, Harry bringing Gareth down onto his lap, an arm around his waist, Gareth’s arm around his shoulders. They enjoy cold meats and pickles, cheese, and fruit, and Harry allows himself some wine since he arrived in a taxi, and because it’s Christmas. He even has some Christmas cake, which is so delicious that he has a second slice. They sing along to The Twelve Days of Christmas, all the way through, dissolving into laughter as they finish.

They move to the sofa afterwards, and Harry begins to feel nervous about his gift again. Gareth gives him his present first, and Harry opens an envelope to find reservations for two for a weekend the following summer at a gorgeous property in the middle of nowhere in the Wiltshire countryside. His breath catches in his throat.

“Is this…for us?” he asks, to make sure.

“Yes, if it’s okay? I did say I was presumptuous about dates.”

“It’s perfect.” Harry laughs, and it’s a mixture of delight and relief. At least, he hopes the latter isn’t misplaced. He hands Gareth an envelope, too, and watches as Gareth opens it to find similar reservations for a luxury property in Devon. He holds his breath, waiting.

Gareth smiles. “That’s two weekends away together, then.”

Harry throws his arms around Gareth’s neck. “I was fretting about it.”

“You needn’t have. It’s wonderful. But are you sure it’s okay, Harry? I’m always travelling around the country, but can you get away for both?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” He pulls back, smiles sheepishly, “I got these, too, just in case I got it wrong with the reservations.” He gives Gareth the gift bag of wine and whisky, and now Gareth looks stunned. 

“Harry, these aren’t just any bottles of wine and whisky!”

“I know. Are they to your taste?”

“Very. Oh, Harry, thank you. But you shouldn’t have spent so much money on me. I-”

“Shh,” Harry shushes him before kissing him. “I’d give you the world if I could.”

It seems it’s Gareth’s turn to become emotional. His eyes look quite shiny as he folds Harry in his arms. Harry smiles and hugs him lovingly. They stay in their embrace, listening to Doris Day singing that she’ll be home for Christmas. It’s dark outside now, London lit up magnificently. No doubt it has grown colder than it was when Harry arrived earlier, but all Harry feels is warmth. 

The following song prompts Harry to ease back and give Gareth his hand.

“Dance with me?” 

Gareth’s expression is soft, mirroring Harry’s own. He takes Harry’s hand and they get up to sway slowly to _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas._

“I hope you have a wonderful Christmas, Harry.”

Harry brushes a kiss to Gareth's cheek, "I already am."

He holds Gareth closer and dreams of next summer.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!


End file.
